


Cold Confidence

by SpaghettiTacos



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Attack of the plot bunny, Coldness, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-17 22:58:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/872924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaghettiTacos/pseuds/SpaghettiTacos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A cold front hits Beacon Hills. Stiles decides that breathing space heaters are the best kind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Confidence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [luvsbitca](https://archiveofourown.org/users/luvsbitca/gifts).



> It's July. And I wore a sweater and socks with my PJ's for bed. Ridiculous.
> 
> Please stay tuned for one of the more epic Stiles rants I've ever written.

This wasn't right. He was in California for Christs sake! It should not be possible for it to be this goddamn cold. Yet here Stiles was, freezing, in his borrowed bed. He'd elected to stay at the newly refurbished Hale Pack House rather then in his own. With his dad away at a Policeman's Ball with Melissa his house was eerily silent. He was going to stay with Scott, which is actually how he discovered who his fathers date was. Thanks so much Daddy Dearest. Scott had told him with a weird look that Stiles quickly mirrored, and then he'd said he was staying at Derek's with Isaac. So Stiles followed suit telling the Alpha's raised eyebrow that he was gonna crash in the guest room while his dad was out of town. The man merely hummed lowly and returned to one of his books from the astonishingly large collection in his house.  
  
It was now one in the morning. And hell had frozen over. It had to of. He was lying in a bed with a down comforter and three quilts shaking like a leaf in a windstorm. He got up for a fourth time to push through the closets and drawers trying to find more things to bundle up in. As he searched he fell into an outer string of consciousness.  
  
"It's not right. Yes, it's November, but this is California. I'm a Californian. I live in one of the warm states. Warm like cocoa and towels from the dryer and sunshine. California is a sunshine-y place and there should be warmness. Not cold. Cold is up higher. Like Oregon or Nebraska. It's cold in Nebraska. Isn't it? It has to be. Cold there like in Alaska. Heh, heh, heh... that rhymes. Cold in Nebraska like it is in Alaska. Ha! Cold in California now. This isn't awesome at all. Who'd I kill in a past life. Probably a president. That's it; I assassinated someone and I'm paying for it now cause I didn't then. Wasn't caught. Too badass. Badass Past-Stiles. Yep that's me. That _was_ me. If it was still me I'd be warm. Warm and toasty. _Urg_ , why aren't there more blankets in this place!! Damn werewolves. Yes, _they're_ always warm but they have to know we aren't. They know that humans visit and they're still under prepared."  
  
Stiles sighed, annoyed. He returned to the bed trying to roll all the blankets around him like a burrito and remain breathing at the same time. He wasn't having much luck. He tried pulling his legs up and flailing a bit to tuck in the excess blankets from where his legs used to be. All he succeeded in doing was being caught on the foot board and wrenched to the floor in a heap.  
  
"Urg! That is it! I give up!" Stiles flipped his way out of his blanket noose and stomped over to the door. He wrenched it open and had to steel himself against the shiver that rocked him. The air in the hall was even colder then his room.  
  
"This is freaking ridiculous." He muttered, charging up the staircase and down the left hall.   
  
He knocked once, and pushed the door open. Green eyes looked up from a thick black book with a suspiciously slanted silver title on the spine. Derek started to raise his eyebrows at the teen before noticing the purple hue of his lips. His brows then furrowed as he took in the quivering male.   
  
"It fucking cold in this joint." The teen walked swiftly toward the older Were and crawled in next to him.   
  
"Stiles." Derek grunted as cold fingers pressed into his bare stomach. The teen burrowed into Derek's side and let a satisfied shiver wrack his body. The teen sighed and wriggled in closer to the wolf. Derek remained frozen whilst Stiles situated himself, staring in disbelief at the younger mans confidence. It wasn't until Stiles gave a contented hum that Derek moved. He closed his eyes in silent surrender and shoved his bookmark into place, setting the volume in the ajar drawer of his nightstand. He then flicked the lamp and slid down the bed as carefully as he could. Going to lengths not to jostle the newly comfortable teen. Stiles nuzzled his face into his neck and murmured sleepily. Derek squirmed a bit, shifting to wrap his arms around the cold teens waist.  
  
"Good thing you never sleep." Stiles smiled into his neck.  
  
"You woke me up." Derek grunted.  
  
"Mn-mm. You were readin'."  
  
"I was trying to ignore your ranting."   
  
"You need more blankets." Stiles yawned.  
  
"There's a linen closet across from that room, Stiles." Derek replied, settling in a bit more.  
  
"That's a stupid place for blankets." Stiles grumbled, and shifted in closer again.  
  
Derek shook his head infinitesimally. He put his cheek against Stiles' ever lengthening hair and hummed a short reply.  
  
"You're comfy." Came a mostly asleep whisper.  
  
"Good night, Stiles."   
  
"This is much better then being cold and alone." Stiles said before he finally drifted.  
  
Derek waited a few moments for Stiles breath to even before pressing his lips to the boys head.   
  
"Then don't take so long next time."

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday, Jess! ^_^ 
> 
> Brownie points if you know what book Derek is pretending not to read!! (Don't judge me.)


End file.
